


Regular Discipline

by Esmethewitch



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Don't Try This At Home, Don't Try This At Work, Force Choking (Star Wars), M/M, Masochism, No Aftercare, Non-Sexual Kink, Not Safe Sane and Consensual, Nothing awful happens but don't approach kink or life in general like this, One-sided Kylux, Power Dynamics, Pryde is Not Nice, Spanking, Undernegotiated Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:54:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22411345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esmethewitch/pseuds/Esmethewitch
Summary: Pryde spanks Kylo with his stick. Kylo wishes that Hux was spanking him instead. That's it. That's the fic.Edit: took this off anon. I accept that I can write trash. Please don't judge me.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Kylo Ren/Allegiant General Pryde
Comments: 6
Kudos: 33





	Regular Discipline

Kylo Ren strode into Allegiant General Pryde’s office. The room used to be Hux’s office, but since Pryde took command, Hux had been moved into a former janitor’s closet. The only change in this featureless space was the man glaring at him behind the desk. General Hux was a lot prettier than Pryde. Though Hux might resemble this man in thirty years’ time.

“Ah. Supreme Leader Ren,” Pryde said, looking up from his datapad, “so good of you to attend this meeting. Only fifteen minutes late, I see.”

“I was attending to matters of the Force,” said Kylo stiffly. For most people, this excuse was good enough.

Pryde shook his head. “If only the Force had helped keep you from destroying that row of consoles yesterday,” he lamented.

“That’s not how the Force works.”

“Evidently so. I expect you know why I summoned you here today.” 

“I hired you. You answer to  _ me.”  _ This stung.

“If you held any real power, you would not need to say such things.”

Before Pryde had a chance to continue, Kylo clenched his gloved fist shut, and the old General’s face was purpling with a lack of air. Pryde clawed fruitlessly at his throat.

“You--you…” Pryde gasped and gulped. Kylo loosened his grip slightly. “You don’t want to do this,” Pryde wheezed.

“Why?”

“If I die, you’ll have to promote Hux to fill my position. You don’t want to do that, do you?” Kylo didn’t. Grand Marshal Hux would be insufferable. He let go. Pryde collapsed onto his desk. Something about this felt wrong. He could remember driving his blade through his fath---no,  _ Han Solo’s  _ chest, the look of pure betrayal and shock the old man gave him. He thought there was no way Kylo would hurt him, and was proven wrong. At least Pryde didn’t claim that he still loved him and there was a way out. Pryde, for all that he was technically in Kylo’s employ held him in the highest contempt. There was something reassuring about that.

Pryde recovered quickly. “I have called this meeting with you because of the consoles you sliced through with your lightsaber. Destruction of First Order property merits punishment. And this is far from a first offence for you.”

Kylo smirked. So now his underling would pack him off to a fruitless Anger Management seminar or something. Nothing he couldn’t get out of again. Pryde saw this, and glared. When Hux glared at Kylo, it was almost endearing. He hated Ren, and was powerless to do anything against him. His thoughts were practically screams:  _ Kill you, stab you, poison you till you’re shitting your large intestines out, punch you in the face, bend you over and spank you like the child you are... _ all things he was incapable of. When Pryde glared at Kylo, Kylo felt his stomach twist itself into knots. Pryde  _ shouldn’t  _ have any power over him. But he wasn’t keen to explain that to Pryde. “Alright. Where do I sign up for the seminar?”

Pryde’s face was stony. “There is no seminar. Lift up your robes, remove your trousers but leave your underwear on, and bend over. Brace yourself on the desk.” He held his swagger stick in his right hand. 

Kylo’s fingers were on his belt buckle before he wondered why he was doing this. He stopped. “What? Why should I do this?” He gestured to Pryde’s throat. Never mind that he secretly fantasized about Hux saying the same thing and then giving him a sound spanking. This man was not Hux. 

“Because you have not learned from the other disciplinary methods you have been subjected to before, and continue to destroy equipment and officers. I find that...traditional methods of discipline are often the best. Do it. I should not have to ask you again.”

Against all odds, Kylo obeyed. His knuckles were white as he gripped the desk. Snoke was horrible. But he was the one to give him praise, tempered with advice and calculated applications of pain. Since his death, there was a gaping, empty hole in his mind. Let this toy soldier think he’d gained the upper hand on him. He would give Kylo what he needed. For now.

“Originally, your punishment was only going to be twenty strokes.” Pryde said. “But given your...insolence, I have increased it to twenty-five. You shall count for me. If you fail to count a stroke, we will begin again. Do you understand?” At least Pryde’s accent was similar to Hux’s. 

“Yes.”

The swagger stick cracked him sharply across both buttocks. Kylo jerked forward. It wasn’t the pain, it was the shock of being beaten in such a way, ass-up in the office of a man who worked for him. “What was that?”, Pryde asked before Kylo could yelp: “One!”

Kylo grit his teeth. “Yes,  _ sir _ ,” he said.

“That’s much better. Now we shall begin.”

The worst thing about this beating, Kylo mused between counts, was that there was no artistry to it, no passion. Each blow fell on a slightly different part of his ass; left cheek, right cheek, the curve where buttock met thigh, but the intensity of the hits did not vary and they fell as regularly as clockwork. He’d dreamed of Hux starting off gently, then working himself into a rage that let blows fall like rain in a thunderstorm and insults fly from his pretty lips like blasterfire as he tangled his long pale fingers into Kylo’s hair and spanked him even harder. 

“Sixteen,” he rasped, tears threatening to burst. It wasn’t the pain, though his ass was on fire. He could handle pain. He liked pain. His cock rose in agreement and was trapped against the rough fabric of his boxers and the polished ironwood of the desk for its efforts. Pryde, to his credit made no sign that he noticed, though he did stop. Kylo braced himself for a blow that did not come. He twisted his head back, though he knew he would not like what he’d see.

“I should have done this to you on the Bridge,” Pryde muttered. “So you could see the destruction you wrought, and remember. Or perhaps the Lieutenants and Petty Officers you nearly throttled could witness your punishment. That would be good for morale." _ Hux would be there. Maybe he’d be jealous.  _

“No matter,” Pryde continued. “That could be new punishment for you if you misbehave again. Keep that in mind the next time you wish to destroy something.” He raised his arm, and Kylo flinched. Still no swish of the stick in the air and the sting of supple wood meeting flesh. Pryde chuckled. “Head forward, boy.”

Fuming, Kylo complied. And then cried “seventeen!”. Each count drew him out of the haze of pain he would have otherwise floated atop. He was certain that Hux would not have made him count. An eternity later but still too soon, the beating was over. Pryde stepped back. Kylo lay across the desk, sore and painfully hard.

“Get up.”

Kylo complied, twisting to hide his erection. His ass stung as he pulled up his trousers and the thick quilted fabric of his robes slid down. “I hope I will not have to repeat this performance. Go.” Pryde’s expression was slightly less severe than it had been. 

Kylo swallowed and obeyed. His ass and cock complained with every step he took. When he finally reached his quarters, he shucked off his now sweat-damp clothing and went to the shower, hissing as the stream of hot water kissed his abused flesh. He took his hard length in hand, closed his eyes, and imagined Hux yanking him roughly and then stroking him.  _ You took that so well for me, Ren,  _ Imaginary Hux said as he held Kylo in place with one skinny arm wrapped round his waist, gloved fingers groping at his chest. His other hand curled round Kylo’s cock.  _ Come for me, Ren. You’ve been punished, now show me how good you can be.  _

With a whimper, Kylo painted the shower cubicle wall with his come. He detached the shower head to spray away the evidence of his shame. He then continued his shower routine, taking care to turn off the water and leave his specialized conditioner in for precisely five minutes before rinsing it out. The pain ebbed to a friendly warmth, though he still wasn’t keen to sit down. He turned off the water, blotted his body dry, and fumbled around in the cabinets of his refresher until he found a packet of bacta-wipes. He swabbed at the raised welts, flinching at the sting. This would fade as the bacta did its work. 

He thought about getting himself into sleep-pants and a tank top, but couldn’t summon the effort. His head was pleasantly foggy. Instead, he gave his damp hair one final squeeze, hung up the towel, and crawled naked into bed. He wrapped the sheets around him, then grabbed the second pillow and hugged it to his chest like a lover. In no time at all, he fell into the blackness of sleep. 


End file.
